Dear Granger, I Hate You
by erbkaiser
Summary: After the War, Draco finds the new world not exactly as he hoped it would be. He sends a letter to the person he feels most responsible. Letter fic; Quidditch Fan League submission for round 6.


**Dear Granger, I Hate You.**

A/N: Written for Round 6 of the Quidditch Fan League

Team: ******Montrose Magpies**

Position: ******Beater 2**. Round setting is a letter to an enemy.

Prompts used: **2**(word) drag / **6** (word) old / **13**(emotion) jealousy

Thanks to my team mates for beta duty. Any remaining errors are my own fault.

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___Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

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A/N 2: Erased text in the letter: –_**word**_–

Unfortunately this site doesn't support strike-through formatting :(

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'Dear Granger,

I hate you.

You think you are so clever. You and Potter. Influencing the Ministry to change our world for the worse. Implementing new laws that destroy our way of life.

Granger, I know people like you. You say you want equality, but you are only out to change the Magical world into a copy of the Muggle world you were raised in. If you could, you would take away even our magic and distribute it equally among the Muggles, to make us all the same.

You have already ruined the House Elves. No longer are they content to work for food and lodging, no, thanks to the laws you proposed we Purebloods now have to pay them a salary. And we cannot even punish them if they make mistakes or your laws will send the Aurors after us.  
What Elf ever suffered from being told to iron its hands? It's not as if they feel pain like we do.

But you did not stop there. No, thanks to you, Centaurs are now seen as a separate nation and the Ministry has officially ceded parts of the Forbidden Forest and the plains next to it to these animals. 'President Firenze' indeed. The day –_**a Mal**_– a Pureblood bows to a horse will never come.

And the Goblins? My ancestors fought long and hard to keep the beasts down. We had them cornered in their mines under Gringotts and they never dared to leave. Yet you, with your notions of equality, had to change that. Goblins now openly live above ground and have representatives at the Wizengamot. You actually let them decide on matters of economy, rather than force them to carry out the demands of the Ministry!

Have you gone mad, Granger? Do you not see the damage you are causing?

I must admit, it was a masterful play to disenfranchise the Old Families from the Wizengamot. You had your pretty boy Potter cast a charm that keeps anyone with a Dark Mark out of the Ministry, thereby eliminating in one single move over three quarters of the Old Families from taking their seats. And you replaced them with Half-bloods and Muggleborns. Tell me, Granger, is there any truth to the ludicrous rumour that you are planning to have the Minister call for general elections in a few years? The Wizengamot has always been hereditary and that system has worked since the time of Merlin the Great. But you don't care, do you? You want to drag our world down until we are no better than Muggle filth.

Did you have it all planned out even while we were at Hogwarts? Mudblood Granger, chief DMLE investigator and future Minister, no doubt. Scarhead Potter, head Auror and next in line to become Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. And your puppet Kingsley Shacklebolt as the Minister for Magic who gets the blame for destroying our world.

What hold do you have over the ICW, Granger, that they do not step in to stop you? Instead, they applaud your efforts and now call Britain an example to all of Europe. As if we were not before. In my opinion? Now, we are the laughing stock in the Pureblood world. If I ever have children, I'll send them to Durmstrang. Unless you manage to ruin that school, too. Beauxbatons was already soft, now it's become even worse.

Was McGonagall a willing puppet in your schemes, or are you blackmailing her? From what I hear, Hogwarts is now teaching introductory courses on the Magical world, something my Father always opposed when he was still governor. And with good reason: we, the elite, RUN this world. Any Muggleborns will have to be content with servant status.  
Well, that's how it used to be, anyway. You changed that, didn't you? Several of my friends now have difficulties finding a job. You revoked the old laws that made businesses prefer to hire proper Wizards and Witches; now they hire anyone regardless of Blood Status.

I blame you for the problems –_**Astoria**_– my wife and I are having. She actually dared say that the Magical World was a better place now; that she felt safe walking the Alleys thanks to the increased Auror postings. I told her she was wrong, that Knockturn Alley was _supposed_ to be dark and broody, and she dared say I was wrong. A Pureblood wife, talking back to her husband? You've turned her mad! I slapped her, of course, and she ran to the floo.

So now here I sit alone in my study, drinking. My Father and Mother have retired early, and Astoria has gone home to that insufferable mother of hers...

I know what you're thinking, Granger. You think that I am writing this out of jealousy. Jealousy over the fact that your side won the War, and is now running – and ruining – our world. Whereas I am left with nothing but my family's manor, and have to support my Father, who nobody will now hire for any business, and my Mother, whose only skill was as a Pureblood hostess of elaborate parties.

Nothing could be further from the truth. I, –_**a Malf**_– a Pureblood, jealous of a Mudblood? Never!

I despise you, Granger. As I sit here writing this my one comforting thought is that it is a proven fact that Pureblood wizards live longer than Muggleborn witches. In a hundred years I will be old and distinguished and will look back at your rebellion as temporary insanity, while I will be living in the Pureblood Britain the Dark Lord promised us. And you will be dead, just like Scarhead. I will dance on your graves when the day comes.

Do not try to find who sent this letter. You will never be able to figure it out, my Father told me of a spell to hide all magical signatures before sending it. Just know that I am your enemy, and will be waiting for the day you make that crucial mistake, and your world will come tumbling down.

Signed,

–_**Dra**__**c**_– Anonymous, your enemy.'


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